Title: Book of Immortals: The Disciple
Word Count: 110,000
When Celine dies in a plane crash, instead of going to heaven or hell, she becomes a character in a novel. In the new world around her, immortals practice their arts to gain prolonged life. Devils suck the energy out of mortals in exchange for power. And as the daughter of an immortal and a devil, Celine has to cover up her devil ancestry in her immortal school. She can live with all that, if she hadn’t read The Book.
The Book is about how the protagonist Ying struggles to become one of the most powerful immortals of her time. And Celine’s job as the rival of the protagonist is to contrast her failure with the protagonist’s success. But her failure in the novel means her death. This time, for good.
Her crush Erik who also journeyed into this world tells her she should become a devil to change her fate. But her perfectionist mentor Aaren would never love devils; he only slays them. When her doomsday comes closer, Celine must choose to embrace devils or immortals, former crush or current love.
BOOK OF IMMORTALS: THE DISCIPLE is a complete 110,000-words fantasy novel.
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“Push. Take a deep breath. Exhale.”
In the distance, someone is giving directions in a calm, soothing voice. I wish she could tell me what to do, too.
The walls are compressing against me, pushing me head first down into a canal. I am surrounded by fluid, but, surprisingly, I don’t drown.
“Your water broke. You’re almost there.”
Quickly, the warm fluid around me is drained from the compartment I am in. The walls continue to push against me, ever so rhythmically.
“I see the head!”
A gust of air flies past the tip of my head. It becomes very uncomfortable as I descend the ever-so-small canal. I don’t have my watch with me; I have no idea how much time has passed in agony. It can be just a few hours, but it can also be days. Finally, when I am ready to give up, it ends.
“Congratulations! It’s a girl.”
And I am born.
As a middle-aged female is cleaning up the blood and amniotic fluid off my body, I look around with interest. The room is huge, but there is no glass anywhere to be seen. Even the windows are made of translucent paper framed by wood. I strike out the possibility that I’m in a hospital. From everyone’s ancient Oriental clothing that lacks both buttons and zippers, I might not even be in the Western world.
On the other end of the room is a large round canopy bed where a woman rests with her eyes closed.